Interrogating Again
by melmelkimkim
Summary: The Bat's too wrapped up in finding Quincy Sharp again that he simply can't take a joke... must be Tuesday. A Joker sympathetic interrogation ditty.


Any doctor who saw the Joker's brain scans would be amazed by the way it works. Heck, his brain amazed himself. Many people say he's not right in the head, and he'd agree wholeheartedly. There are just some things about that funny organ in his noggin that are surprising every day. Especially the way it bounced back after however many punches to the face.

Thank the stars for having a bouncy brain, thought the Joker with a grumble, lifting his head off of the grimy interrogation table once again. Shifting his jaw to test the soreness in his cheeks, the Joker smirked up at his ever-steely friend in leather. Was a frown always plastered on his face like that? Surely he couldn't have had _that_ unhappy of a life… Of course, having a couple of dead parents and a good handful of dead friends might do that to you. The gunned down mom 'n pop, the pretty Bat Babe with the leg problems, and… oh yes, the Boy Blunder who just couldn't beat the bar. That bar sure did beat him, in fact! Hahaha, what a pun—

A brute fist to the sore cheek abruptly cut into his inadvertent thoughtful chuckle. His face was hurled to the side, whipping his neck and possibly knocking a tooth a little loose in the back.

"I'm glad you think this is funny, Clown," the Caped Crusader growled as he leaned over the table, "because I don't. How many more do you want until you tell me where Quincy Sharp is?"

The Joker eyed him with a smirk, slowly straightening his neck and releasing an amused sigh. "Batsy, come on now. What's the fun in telling you when I can just watch you fumble around in anger? Really, you're quite funny when you're very angry. I almost enjoy it as much as seeing a good kill!" The Joker teased. He grinned, almost seeing the steam rise from the Bat's cowl. Batman gritted his teeth and tightened his line-thin grimace.

"I mean really, Bats! It's hilarious. Do you realize that when you get crazy irate that your voice tends to get all raspy and your ability to pronunciate goes south?!" he laughed even harder, thoroughly enjoying Batman's attempt to keep cool.

"Shut up, Clown."

"Hahaha no but really, you ought to record yourself sometime! 'WHARE'SH THE DRUGZH?!" he mimicked with a genuine cackle that bounced off the dingy grey walls. "It's good enough to make me cry! And not just out of laughter, either! It's so bad that—"

Another slug came to his chest, knocking him backwards in his chair and straight into the wall behind him. The Joker giggled, out of breath but not surprised in the least. He felt Batman's threatening glove at his bloody shirt, lifting him partly out of the chair and pulling him against the attached handcuffs.

Batman was disappointingly still calm, far from the comical state of rage that the Joker laughed about just earlier. He looked the Joker in the eye, brow furrowed as usual and clearly unhappy at the Joker's mimicry.

"The warden. Now."

He simply couldn't take a joke, thought the Joker. Even if every joke is rooted in a little bit of truth.

"Alright Batsy, fine. Youuu win. I'll tell you where Sharpie is. Just do me a teensy favor and put me down and give me a few seconds?" He added a pouty lip for effect.

"No," the Bat growled.

"Fine then, you can sniff out the Sharpie on your own. I hear that doing that gives you a real nice daze in the head! But don't do it too much, or the fumes'll pass you out. And you wouldn't want that, now would you?"

Batman threw the Joker back down into his chair with disgust, returning to his side of the table as a sign of the Joker's one last civilized chance.

"Where is he?"

"That's a little better, Bats. But I didn't hear a 'please'?"

"The location."

"Oh, fine, be rude then. Alright Bats, think for a second. Where's the last place you and I had a rendezvous?"

"The docks."

"Very good! Now where's the last place you met up with the good warden?"

Batman tensed at the unexpected possibility of a second location. The Joker noted his sudden discomfort. "Ahh, didn't know there was a second place, huh Bats? Well I'll give you a freebie on this one. That was at the courthouse, of course! Now," the Joker sneered, leaning low over the table, "why do you suppose I asked that?"

"Tell me which one he's at. NOW."

"Ah ah ah. Batsy, you know that's not how I operate….

…Oh! And speaking of operating, I do believe my surgical team is due for their first operation very soon. And by surgical team, I mean the redshirt lackies I picked up from Skid Row, of course. And here's the best part—take a WILD guess at who's the patient! Come on, give it a shot!" the Joker taunted wickedly, deviousness shining in his cold eyes.

The table screeched along the concrete as Batman pushed it away and headed for the door. But he paused, turning back and rushing in towards the Clown. The Joker tensed and the familiar punch barreled into his jaw, knocking him over onto the concrete floor, chair and all.

As he watched the Bat's angry feet storm out of the interrogation cell, he chuckled again, with all the guttural spite he could muster.

He'd never make it in time, and the boys would have a grand old time experiencing the life of the medicine man…

Oh my, did he tell them about using anesthetic?

...That's right, he didn't.

Good.


End file.
